Peace. Last year, I participated in the National Poetry Writing Month (conveniently known as NaPoWriMo) due to inspiration from talented poet Derrick Weston Brown, a poet-in-residence at Busboy and Poets in DC. I’m nobody’s poet but I do try to get creative when I can. It is such a departure from my usual work. I hope you enjoy. I will list my poems below daily.
Carnival
Her hair smelled like my many fond memories of the carnival.
Caramel and spun sugar danced about my headspace as I tried to find the words to get the woman’s attention.
She smiled that confident smile of “yes, I know I look good and I wanted you to know”
I showed that grin that communicated “damn you look good and I’m glad you let me know”
I started to hear the carousel music followed by festive be-bop horns and a marching band with a ringleader in a top hat.
The performers did amazing feats and my flashback was so real, I could touch it.
Animals roared and preened. We were all delighted, fascinated.
I awoke from my dream haze and the mystery woman of my affection looked up to me.
I decided not to speak.
Forks
I stare into my plate
wondering
if you still like
cheese
Because I damn sure do
remember?
I used to love
how
your big brown eyes showed
me the universe
I saw my babies in those eyes
I saw my future in those eyes
I saw my love in those eyes
that I don’t see anymore
I hear these forks scraping so loudly
because
when I was with you
I heard nothing else
I did not know people ate
so noisily
because I
was so wrapped up into you
Those eyes I miss
The way your tongue meets your teeth
The way your bosom heaved when I…
I just keep looking into my plate
hoping
you would be coming back
from the restroom
But you never do. You never will.
Erng
I do not always talk to mother.
Mother and I are more like brother and sister
Lopsided siblings
Mother made me a man before my time
Mother was not at fault
Mother did her best
I love how mother says the word orange
My favorite thing about mother
I always laugh when she does
My memories of mother fade daily
Mother is alive but we live apart
20 years ago I left her nest
I want to buy mother an Orange Fanta
Just to hear her say that word
That funny funny word
Loose Haiku #1
I Do Not Wish You
Any Harm But I Do Not
Wish You Very Well
Hot Air
With The Rising In My Chest, I Inhale Life
All Of Its Ups & Downs & Twists & Turns
I Hold It In Sometimes To Taste The Joy
To Taste The Pain & To Taste Bittersweet
Sometimes It Feels Like My Childhood Memories
Others It Reminds Of Me Of Tales My Grandpa Told
I Breathe In The Air Of Winter & Spring & Fall Willingly
I Never Loved The Air Of Summer
But I Will Try To Love
I Will Try To Love Summer Again
Odin
Could I give up half my sight
To see all things?
No. I am a coward who needs both eyes
and although I am parched I will not drink.
I have heard that the water is so sweet
and will expand my consciousness.
I could be a GREAT god
if only I give my eye.
But I am vain and I am hollow
and I am afraid to dig into my skull.
So what kind of god
am I really?
The Truth About Haikus
Haikus Are Lazy
They Don’t Challenge Me At All
Yet I Still Do Them
Untitled #1
Her hair smelled
like
my hands were in them
last night
and I
Made sure she kept my scent
because she was wanted by all
I wanted her
future lover(s)
to know
they will never have her like I do
Scene From The Red Line
A Man Buried Nose Deep In His Paper
Obnoxious Teens Enter The Vehicle
The Man Breathes A Knowing Sigh
Bracing Himself For Profane Loudness
However He Recalls In His Seasoned Age
He Was JUST Like Them
Lost Boys Were He And His Boyhood Friends
Searching For A Reason To Be Noticed
Pining To Be Noticed
Hoping To Be Scolded
Because It Would Mean Someone Cared About Them Still
Oakland
Oakland Reminds Me Of A Woman I Love(d)
Hot And Cold And Sunny And Cloudy
But When Oakland Is Good To You
Oakland Is Good To You
Walking Down Bellevue Ave On The East Side Of Things
Soaking In That Sunlight Bouncing Off Lake Merrit
Getting Off At The Fruitvale BART Stop
Hoping To Run Into Something Fine On 35th Ave
But Oakland Is So Fickle Sometimes
I Swear I Don’t Know What Be On Her Mind
Always Steamy In The Day
Always Chilly At Night
I Love Oakland
She Keeps Me On My Toes
A Short Poem For Dad
I Hope One Day You Wake Up
And Realize
You Made A Mistake
In Giving Up
On Me
On Us
On Yourself
What I Saw (based on all truth)
At the age of culture, I saw my mother cry
My little four year old brain could not understand
My mother was strong and unbreakable
I saw my father shadow her with his big loving arms
I wanted to go into the room but I was up past bedtime
And daddy would be so mad if he saw me
I kept quiet looking at the pain grow with each sob
My mother looked broken as tears flowed like the Anacostia
I love my brother because he came next
But that night they lost my sister
I still could not understand
My four year old brain was not ready
But as I stand as a man
I know what my mother lost
And so I cry for her
Because she will not cry anymore
Untitled
A wariness creeps onto my skin when I see you speaking your beautiful little falsehoods
The way you sell yourself as perfect sickens me to my core. And thrills me.
I am embarrassed by the fact your despicable soul attracts me.
I simply can not get enough of your evil ways
Arrow Tips
Cupid is a motherf*cker
Because His Little Fat Ass
Sure Picks The Right Time
To Shoot You In The Heart
I Got To Bleeding Hard
Then I Got To Crying Harder
But When It Stopped Hurting
I Couldn’t Wipe That Smile Off
Cupid Is A Motherf*cker, Jack
He Cold Blooded
Gems
Old Jack Came To Me And Said “Don’t Chu Evah Fall In No Love”
And I Laughed Knowingly
Because I Fail That Lesson Every Change Of The Season
He Gives Me These Words Because He’s Lived A Life Longer Than I
Full Of Heartache And Soaring Triumph And All Things In Between
He Wanted Me To Avoid Those Pitfalls Of Discontent
He Just Doesn’t Know I Get Into My Own Space Too
I’m Somebody’s Old Jack Now Who Advises The Youngin
And I Give Those Words Of Encouragement Coupled With Sentiment
And I Wonder If The Kid Laughs At Me Too Like I Do Old Jack
Stormy Haikus
I Want To Make Love
Passionately And Steady
Hoping She Wants More
My Face Is Wet With
Her Explosion And Passion
I Devour Her
Please Claw My Back, Love
Call My Name Like You’ve Missed Me
Never Let Me Go
I Will Dab Your Face
The Sweat Was Pouring At Will
You Were Beautiful
Untitled
My enemy, my friend
I never have enough of you
My love, my heart
I can never seem to keep up
Why won’t you stay still for me?
Don’t you see me over here?
Waiting….
Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: | creative writing, NaPoWriMo, NaPoWriMo 2011, poetry, writing
wise choice in the end,
very visual and vivid imagery.
I liked both poems, but “forks” was so much more expressive and revealed a strong sense of yearning. I can relate to that.
Both are very beautiful. You have a way with words.